Lost Days of Summer

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by Tim Burdick on 13 August, 2014

Last week, I found this memory stuck in the book pages, between the water color drawings of a starry night sky and a vast desert.


In reading this story, I hope that you might rediscover a few of your own. . . .

Those hot summer days, even the nights were warm and difficult to sleep. My bedroom was in the corner of the house. My sanctuary had two windows. One overlooked our back yard. Giant pine trees bordered and hid us, kids from our neighbors. Beyond that, in the distance, the main road was a constantly roaring beast. Summers were filled with yard work particularly the cutting the grass with a weed whacker and push mower (a chore I hated as a teen). But it was also a time of playing on the slip-n-slide. Eating ice cream before it melted, running down the cone. Spending afternoons on the bedroom floor surrounded by stacks of Rickie Rich and Archie comic books. At night, on the back porch, we ate watermelon.

The heat worked its magic. Do nothing and worry about nothing except staying cool. 


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